


The Wandering Children

by Procrastinating_Dragonfly



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Historical, Changbin Is Generally Weird, Essentially SK as a bunch of ragtag adventurers, Everyone runs a lot and sets fire to a lot of shit, Felix is also Precious, Fortuneteller Minho, Gen, Guard Hyunjin, Half Angst Half Crack, Healer Woojin, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Kim Woojin is Too Precious, Scholar Chan, Seungmin didn't ask for any of this, Thief Jisung, You should be afraid of IN
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-06
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-04-28 05:19:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14442195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Procrastinating_Dragonfly/pseuds/Procrastinating_Dragonfly
Summary: If one were to be a scholar severely lacking in inspiration, one might decide that the right solution would be to overcome the worst case ever of writer's block by meditating or changing projects.Bang Chan is, however, not your average scholar, and his less-than-orthodox solution to the worst case ever of writer's block is a cross-country adventure with a ragtag group of dysfunctional children.Or, how a scholar, two scoundrels, a liar, a couple innocent ones, and a pyromaniac entertainer became brothers.





	1. In Which The Journey Begins

It was a warm, sunny day. This, in itself, was completely uninteresting, given that it was the end of summer, and sun was to be expected. This particular day, though, the sun shone on a _seowon_ , inside which two men sat in front of each other.

“This is absolutely implausible,” the master declared, setting down the parchment with absolutely unnecessary force. Chan had to dig his nails in his palms to avoid screaming at the mistreatment of precious paper and his _weeks_ of meticulous writing. He had even attempted some sort of calligraphy, and every scholar in Joseon knew Bang Chan had the worst handwriting to ever exist, ever. 

“You can see the attempt at comedy, for sure, but your irony is absolutely irreverent. No one is going to believe a single word.”

“It’s… it’s true, though-” Chan tried to defend himself, only to be silenced by a sigh.

“Oh, not again, please. Scholar Bang, no one is that stupid. Are you trying to convince me that an Imperial Guard would disguise himself as a farmer to willingly break the law with the assistance of a pyromaniac gisaeng and a street magician?”

“It was not strictly speaking a gisaeng,” Chan sighed. The man cocked an eyebrow, and the younger scholar flinched, realizing it would have probably been wiser to keep quiet.

“The introduction is good,” his mentor said instead, opting to ignore his argument, “You’re quite decent at imagery, but this fiction is unbefitting someone of your position, scholar Bang. Leave the comedy to the lower classes, and please, resume your studies. You went on for so long about having achieved a new degree of enlightenment in your journey, I’m curious to see the results.”

The master smiled kindly, but Chan had spent too many years of his life in this same room to not know that it was also a final order. Holding back a sigh of defeat, he bowed and rose to leave, holding the papers close to his chest.

* * *

_The moon wanes and grows, and with it, time passes, the numbered days of our life counted by the sky itself. Under the moonlight that the Heavens have given us, I asked myself, how could the same moon illuminate this palace of ours, and the most humble of cottages?_

_The trees lose their foliage, bending under the weight of the snow, and flowers grow again in the spring. This, too, accompanies the daily life of every man in this country._

_Our lives are interconnected, I realized by the river, as I watched the water run towards the sea, and come down from the mountain. This simple truth, that had been taught to me by my masters so long ago, I finally understood, for the first time, in all its magnificence - that everything flows, and everything is one. Yet so many before me have written poems and teachings about this simple fact, that I couldn’t bring myself to add to the number with my limited experience and unworthy contributions without first experiencing myself its full extent._

_This is the account of apprentice scholar Bang Chan, who lived under the reign of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Lee Seok Jong, and the adventures he experienced across our great country of Joseon in a quest to better understand the lessons he had received, achieve a step closer to enlightenment, and serve this great country, whether with his advice, or his writing. This is the tale of the people he encountered, and wonders he assisted to, with the company of the young band that decided to join him in his adventure: Hwang Hyun Jin, Han Ji Sung, Seo Chang Bin, Lee Min Ho, Lee Yong Bok, Yang Jeong In, Kim Seung Min, and Kim Woo Jin. These young men strayed from the commonly walked path of our lives, and experienced the beauty of our country in its smallest details, with the heart of learning and wonder that belongs to a child, forming a bond of friendship that disregards social standing and, I pray with all my strength, will last well into our next lives._

_This, is the tale of the wandering children._

* * *

Not far from the imperial palace, in a small, but fairly prestigious seowon, resided a scholar. Like many other scholars before him, and along him, he was well-versed in the arts of philosophy, poetry, history and painting, and spent his days studying, to better know the world and better serve the country, in hopes of one day teaching the same knowledge, or influencing the nation’s course for the best, however small his individual contribution may be.

At the moment, though, the scholar was surrounded by crumpled pieces of paper, muffling a scream in the nearest pillow.

“No inspiration yet?” the only other person in the room asked, schooling his expression into one of innocent inquiry.

“I’ll leave,” the scholar growled, “I’ll abandon this career and purchase a part of land, and leave of the fruits of the earth.”

“You don’t exactly possess the wealth to do so,” the person pointed out and the scholar groaned again. Had he possessed a coin for every time he had groaned that day only, he would probably be rich enough to buy the land he wished for, or be considered an actually worthy student of the institution.

The young scholar’s name, known to many for reasons that might only appear positive to some, was Bang Chan, and as of the moment our story begins, he had been trying for three weeks to compose a poem he and his masters would find satisfying, with no optimal results.

Younghyun, the young scholar-to-be’s current conversation partner and long-time partner in studies and crime, shrugged. “You should take a break,” he suggested, focusing more on the discarded pieces of parchments than his companion.

“I don’t have time to leave-” Chan whined.

“I meant a break by the river.”

“I don’t--” Chan started to say again, but stopped in his tracks. His eyes darted towards the crumpled piece of paper in his hands, caught in a lamp of an idea.

He looked at Younghyun, and back to the piece of paper.

In a small, fairly prestigious seowon, a frustrated scholar screeched with what his masters would undoubtedly dub an enthusiasm unbefitting of the dignity of his role, and sprinted out of the room.

“Chan? Bang Chan-” Younghyun ran to the window, opening it just in time to catch the fleeing boy.

“Are you going to the river _now_?”

“I’m going to take a break! Thank you, scholar Kang!” Chan shouted, flashing a wide smile and running out of his field of vision.

Younghyun sighed and closed the window, giving a glance at the pieces of paper.

_Really, the kid. What’s he gonna do next, run away?_

* * *

Every scholar in Joseon knew of Bang Chan.

Truth be told, most of the voices about him were never that positive. Bastard son of a merchant, they said, and an unknown, unmarried woman who met her due death in childbirth, little loud kid with a penchant for getting into trouble one moment, and being found deeply reflecting the next. Despite his humble origins, the child had immediately showed signs of a great mind and, in an act of extraordinary trust, the chief scholar of the local education institutes had decided to admit the child as a student regardless of his family’s status or income.

Bang Chan was also the young scholar that once had decided to write an entire saga of poems on the wonders of meat, and the one famed to have the worst handwriting and painting technique known to mankind, but those were minor details that only hurt his otherwise spectacular reputation as a brilliant student who challenged his fate and would probably win.

Bang Chan, at the moment, was about to garner a reputation as the ungrateful kid who left his studies to wander around the country like the lowlife he was meant to be, but certain things were unavoidable when you were out of inspiration and really, really needed some fresh air and a new point of view on the world. 

What he needed the most at the moment, though, was a ride, some food, and money he was sure he didn’t have, and couldn’t ask his master to lend him without getting expelled. Not that the stunt he was about to pull wouldn’t have probably gotten him expelled. It was very possible that he would one day come back, only to be kicked out less-than-kindly, and bow his career farewell.

Oh, well. Risks had to be taken, and becoming a scholar was never about the titles. Or more precisely, it was, but theoretically he was supposed to seek knowledge for the sake of wisdom and helping his country.

“You’re planning to _what_?” Dowoon screeched, and Chan winced, motioning him to quiet down.

“You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t really necessary, but I really don’t know who else would help me-”

“Not me! Definitely not me! Do you even know what would happen if your master were to discover I helped you? Don’t look at me like that, don’t give me those eyes, Bang Chan, don’t even _dare_ \-- Fine, this once, and you’re telling no one that I helped you, and owe me the hugest favor you have ever owed anyone in your entire life, ever.”

The older boy soon found himself with an armful of excited scholar mumbling thanks that neither was actually paying much attention to.

“On one condition,” Dowoon growled, pushing Chan away, and sighing when the younger only nodded in anticipation.

He was too fucking stubborn for his own good, Dowoon thought, but that was evidently a discussion for another time.

“You’re letting me pick your companion.”

* * *

Saying that Hyunjin enjoyed his life would have been an exaggeration, but he certainly didn’t mind it. It was, all in all, very quiet, being a guard in a relatively peaceful town, mostly sitting through his days with quiet comfort and only mild boredom, the latter easily mitigated with good company and some game dice.

Since he was a child, boredom had always been a problem for Hyunjin, and, at the same time, he had always been much better at accepting it than most. He liked the rhythm, liked the familiarity of the same streets and same work times, liked knowing the people around him and knowing that the possibility that something would happen to upset his entire routine was quite unlikely. That, of course, also meant Hwang Hyunjin, in between patrolling streets, eating warm meals, and exchanging bets and games with friends he had known his entire life, was generally bored.

He was, again, good at handling the boredom, appreciating the quiet life he had, observing the clouds in case he had absolutely nothing else to do, maybe occasionally daydreaming about another life, in which he might have been a prince, or a farmer; maybe a performer, maybe even an adventurer. In the end, he was absolutely content with his life.

Hwang Hyunjin, though, happened to have what he considered to be an extremely dysfunctional and embarrassing family, who had the weirdest acquaintances.

“No,” he said as soon as Dowoon closed his mouth. “You must be out of your mind. No.”

“I have already made it so that you are completely exempt of any duties and considered on official mission for as long as the journey lasts. And you owe me a favor.”

“I don’t remember that last part,” Hyunjin growled, slamming his drink on the table none-too-kindly, but not too aggressively either. He was already used to his cousin’s antics, and was sure, from experience, that a little patience would eventually get him to relent and, in due time, forget about the idea at all.

Anyway, there was no way, in this life or the next, that Hyunjin was leaving his post to follow a kid - admittedly, one older than he was, but still a child in his own right - across the country, in an uncomfortable journey on horseback, where his muscles would ache and his stomach protest in hunger and his clothes be inevitably covered in mud and heavens knew what else.

There was simply nothing Dowoon could ever say that would convince him, ever, to accept.

“We have a family gathering coming up soon, and your mother wants to know if you’ve found a nice wife, doesn’t she? I bet she’d be so heartbroken to hear about Jaeil being more than a colleague to you,” Dowoon said, a pleasant, barely-there smile playing on his lips. He dunked the remnants of his own cup in one go, eyes never leaving Hyunjin’s own. 

Hyunjin’s blood rushed to his face and neck, and he was quite certain it was not due to the alcohol.

 _You wouldn’t_ , he would have said, had it been anyone else but his family, anyone but this particular cousin that the heavens had decided to test him with. They both knew he would, he very much _would,_ and would also provide way more details that were appropriate in no kind of context, ever, much less in front of his mother, regarding a series of encounters that had only happened a few times, and only in the past.

Hwang Hyunjin was a good son. He loved his parents, and he knew that his filial duty was to avoid giving them unnecessary heartache. 

“...You’re giving me travel clothes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vocabulary Help:  
>  **Seowon** were private education institutes, typically reserved for children of the aristocracy. Their main objective was to prepare students for the state examinations. This story takes place roughly around the end of the 15th century/beginning of 16th century, when members of the lower classes were still technically allowed to take state examinations and become scholars/noblemen, and shortly after Sejong the Great's reign, during which several cases of commoners had been awarded positions for their merits, regardless of social standing.  
>  **Gisaeng** were women educated in several arts for entertainment, (poetry and music among others), who also served as prostitutes. You can find them in... essentially any drama, ever. 
> 
> **Fair Warnings:**  
>  There will be mentions/discussions of underage prostitution in this fic. None of it will be explicitly described, but the concept will be very much present for a while, as one of the characters is recruited from a troupe of travelling dancers that was, historically, often engaging in the prostitution of young boys. 
> 
> I used Felix's Korean name in this chapter, and it will be mentioned a couple of other times for in-story reasons, but in this house we respect people's preferred names, and 99% of the times in the future, he will be referred to as Felix, with appropriate in-story justifications.
> 
> Research was done. Research was... frustrating, especially considering I'm only trying to humor everyone. While I tried to have historical accuracy, and will mention any glaring faults I find, not everything represented here might be accurate. If anyone spots anything I seem to have missed, do feel free to point it out!  
> (Emperor Seokjong is 100% fictional, and will be of virtually no importance to the story anyway).
> 
> Sometimes other idols might make cameos - they should mainly be JYP artists. This chapter features YoungK and Dowoon from Day6!
> 
>  **That said, please leave a kudos or especially a comment** if you liked this first chapter, and see y'all soon with more trash to share!


	2. In Which Our Adventurers Get Into the First Trouble of Many To Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chan and Hyunjin visit their first town. A thief and a storyteller cross their way. Fire ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok listen. Listen this took Literally forever, I know. I... have no excuse except for Terrible Self Esteem and Family Problems, yadda yadda. Jilix's birthday's were very recently, so happy birthday to my sunshines, 2/9 boys I love. Here's a weird chapter to this progressing disaster.

There were three things happening at once.

First, there were two new clients at the inn, drenching water everywhere. Predictable, with the rain that was infuriating outside. Not that Jisung was waiting for it, but he was kind of waiting for it.

Second, the server girl was about to trip and spill the soup. Which was a pity, considering Jisung _was_ hungry, and that was his soup, but sacrifices had to be made.

Third, there was a single pear, courtesy of Jisung, flying towards the innkeeper, who hadn’t noticed a thing, and was still jovially making conversation with one of the new clients who, unlike Jisung, could probably actually afford good food, and thus deserved more cordial conversations.

Someone screamed, the plate clanged on the ground, the soup splashed, and Jisung clicked his tongue in satisfaction at the chaos that would ensue in two, one--

There it went.

It took about five seconds, in which the innkeeper got hit, the new clients immediately rushed to check - bless their kind, naive heart - and the overall volume and level of movement increased enough that if Jisung maybe slipped a hand towards the stranger that seemed to be a scholar or something, on his way to innocently checking if the server girl - and his soup - were alright, well, no one noticed a thing.

It was perfect, really: a polite smile, a few coins slipped into the hidden pocket in his jacket, not enough for anyone to notice until it was too late, a calm reassurance to the workers that it was alright, he could wait for the food some more, even though he was _quite_ hungry, and everything went perfectly according to plan, even more perfectly than he would have ever hoped, because he had never seen either of the newcomers around the village, so they didn’t even have Jisung’s reputation to suspect him on.  

Perfect, except that before he could even take a seat to wait for his damned food, something grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back.

“Give that money back before I cut your hand off,” one of the newcomers growled, and Jisung’s entire being condensed into the single, complex emotion of _oh_ , _fuck._

* * *

“Is your name actually Bang Chan?” was the first question Hyunjin had asked. In retrospect, it was probably not a good testimony of his otherwise impeccable social skills, but the duo had been walking in uncomfortable roads and even more uncomfortable silence for hours - admittedly, mostly due to Hyunjin’s own hesitance to answer the scholar’s questions or make small conversation, but that was kind of beside the point.

“No, actually, it’s not,” Bang Chan, or apparently not-Bang Chan, chuckled, “My master gave me his surname as a child at least for daily life. It would have been a problem to fit in otherwise.”

“So you’re really a commoner?” Hyunjin mused. He had been warned, and it wasn’t exactly a secret that a low-class kid named Bang Chan, or apparently just Chan, had managed to get into a seowon, but he still couldn’t quite say he had expected the rumours to be true.

He wondered if Chan had, indeed, broken in with an army of pirates under his command and demanded to be attributed noble status. 

“I guess so, yeah,” Chan laughed, “I’d say no scholar is really a commoner, but I guess you might think me one because of my origins. Hwang Hyunjin, right? I hope you don’t mind being stuck with a commoner.”

Hyunjin felt his face burn, but kept his head high. Of course, the other - _Chan_ \- had dealt with way too many people like Hyunjin in his life.

“No, I don’t,” he insisted, and for the many faults Hyunjin had, he wasn’t a liar.

Not that kind of liar, at least.

“At least the road is fairly clear, right?” Chan smiled, mercifully changing the subject.

“Yeah,” Hyunjin sighed.

Then the first raindrop fell.

* * *

One night in. One night into their adventure - and Chan’s quest - and his companion was already pinning a boy to the ground.

“I didn’t take anything!” said boy shouted, writhing under Hyunjin’s grip, and the gaze of everyone in the inn. Under any other circumstances, Chan would’ve paused to admire how much strength could be hidden in the guard’s scrawny arms, but in that moment, he was slightly too busy panicking about his travelling companion currently assaulting a poor boy who looked like he hadn’t had a good meal in a week at least.

 

“I have no idea where you put the money, but you have five seconds to give it back and accept your punishment, or I’ll actually-”

The rest of the sentence died, and Chan winced at the thought of the impressive bruise that elbow to the eye would leave.

“That’s it,” Hyunjin declared, his voice suddenly much higher in pitch. He flipped the boy over with the ease Chan would lift books, and the murmurs rose.

 _He’s serious,_ Chan realized, and immediately afterwards he also realized that if he didn’t act immediately the kid would probably be seriously hurt.

Chan really didn’t want kids to be hurt.

“Hyunjin, I really think he didn’t do anything-” he tried to protest.

“I saw him, scholar Bang,” Hyunjin argued, digging a hand through the boy’s clothes just as he barked a furious ‘No you fucking didn’t because I didn’t do a thing!’.

“Hyunjin. Please-”

“ _There_ you go!” Hyunjin shouted, showing off three coins in the palm of his hand.

The color completely drained from the young boy’s face, and Chan was maybe a bit naive, but he was not stupid.

Then again the boy _did_ look like he hadn’t had a good meal in days and Chan did also have a soft spot for kids managing to eat.

“Do you even know what you get for being a thief, _and_ putting up resistance to a town guard?” Hyunjin shrieked, all of his attention back on the boy now that he had proved he wasn’t crazy, at least.

The boy started fighting again, and that was all the answer Chan needed.  
  
Chan was generally respectful of the law. The law was a very good, very useful thing to have around, to avoid thievery and murder and people thinking that going naked around the city was acceptable. But Chan also had morals, and maybe it was the presence of these, and the fact that they included not letting kids be hurt because they were probably starving and needed some money, that made him blurt out things without thinking them through.

“Hyunjin, he didn’t steal anything,” he blurted out, without thinking it through.

Which, in retrospect, was not the brightest choice, because the hints were quite obviously there. The noise around them rose with the people of the inn suggesting in chorus that the kid was a street scoundrel and he _definitely_ stole that money, and they were sorry it had to happen to him, but Chan was also nothing if stubborn, and it was too late to go back.

“He looked hungry, I gave him some money when he came to check if we were alright.”

“You _what?_ No you didn’t!” Hyunjin protested.

“The _fuck_? You didn’t?”

Chan blinked, and the boy seemed to realize what he had just said a second too late.

At least now they both looked like they wanted to cry a little.  

“I didn’t want to make a scene! I just slipped the money into his jacket, it’s like the opposite of thieving. Un-thieving. It was a quick. So quick he didn’t realize it himself.”

Everyone was silent for a blessed second.

Hyunjin made to open his mouth, but didn’t get to speak before Chan whined in frustration.

“I didn’t really want him to notice! Can we… can we _please_ go to sleep…”

“My bad,” the guard declared, letting go of the boy, to Chan’s immense relief and surprise. It really couldn’t have been _that_ easy.

The boy made a run for it the moment he was released, dashing out of the door without a word, amidst the chaos of murmurs and a pained grunt from Hyunjin.  

“Can we… get a room, now?” Hyunjin gritted between his teeth. “I think he broke my foot.”

* * *

Changbin loved the night.

The night was warm, yet cool, silent and lively. The night was the reign of paradox, when pure-hearted nobles moaned with prostitutes, obedient children sneaked out to meet and elope until the morning came, scholars addled their brains with alcohol, and stories took life in the minds of everyone who rested, and many of those who did not. Most than anything, as long as he stayed in his little corner of the town, the night was safe from guards who would bother him all too often during the day, almost as if he were some kind of criminal.

Also, at night Jisung worked more often than not, and he loved his friend, but two fucking hours of peace and quiet were like a dream after a whole day of the younger chatting his ear off.

Which was generally, all considered, good, because at least then Changbin could get some work done, write some new stories, practice some acrobatics, and actually try to pretend he was doing one-hundred-percent honest work and his best friend wasn’t pickpocketing while he performed the pieces he’d worked so hard on. But life didn’t seem to generally like Changbin much, so in the middle of his beautiful reflection moment on the deepness of the night, which could’ve produced a very fine dance or poem, the door to the cramped room they had claimed as a house was all but kicked down by a very furious Jisung dripping water everywhere.

 _We literally just fixed that door, explain yourself,_ was what Changbin wanted to say, but what actually got out of his mouth was a rather shorter “The fuck?”.

Whatever. Conveyed the feeling well enough.

“Newcomers can’t even have the decency to let me take a few coins, fucking nobles travelling for leisure would miss their precious tea so much-”

Over the years, Changbin had gotten quite good at piercing together information, a feat both useful and incredibly frustrating to repeatedly perform in the dead of the night.

“You failed a job and you kicked the door down? Jisung I swear to-”

“And _I_ swear to my entire ancestor line that I’m finding the fucking scholar and giving him his money back soon as the sun rises.”

Changbin blinked.

And then he blinked again.

A drop from Jisung’s hair landed on his feet, and suddenly Changbin became closely reacquainted with the familiar feeling of wanting to slap his best friend so hard he would fly to the next town over.

“You’re- You’re giving money that you stole. Back,” he repeated, in the vain semblance of hope that he had misheard, or misunderstood, and he didn’t actually form a lifelong friendship with an absolute mindless idiot.

“He _gave_ it to me! I don’t accept charity, Changbin, I’m not a beggar.”

“You _wha-_ ” Changbin began to say, but soon realized it was way too late to deal with that kind of bullshit.

He just wanted to maybe work on some performance until he fell asleep, free of stupidity.

“Get the fuck out of here.”

“It’s my house, too!” Jisung screeched, and the older boy had to close his mouth because Jisung was an idiot and he definitely deserved to sleep on the street and leave Changbin in peace for a night, but the place _was_ his, too.

“I’ll deal with it tomorrow, they ruined everything anyway. I gotta lay low. Fuck nobles, fuck their stupid trips and their stupid guards, and fuck _you_ , too.”

“What did I even do?” Changbin shrieked, to Jisung huffing like the oversized child he was, stomping his feet and dripping water everywhere.

“You didn’t warn me there’d be a whole fucking disaster when you decided to move to this town!”

Okay, that was enough for one night. He’d consider the thought of moving somewhere very very far away when morning came.

“...Good night, Jisung.”

* * *

Contrary to popular belief, Jisung, a very honest thief, preferred working under sunlight.

Not only was pickpocketing generally more fun, less harmful, and required less preparation than breaking into a house, the sun generally was a good thing to have around. The busy streets made life that much easier, and he definitely preferred being at the very least warm and aware of his surroundings.

Daylight was just a bit of a bastard in that it made him very recognizable, and he had to at least make an attempt to pretend he was not breaking the law on a daily basis, even though it was a thinly veiled secret. It was hard to actively accuse him of thieving if he spent most of the day in a corner, pretending to beg for some scraps to survive. Then again he knew too well anyone could make up an incident and everyone would believe them, but that was besides the point. Jisung was trying at least. If someone gave him money, he could even accept, because he was still detracting funds from someone who evidently didn’t need them with some form of deception, so he _was_ working.

He had to say that, or Changbin would probably kick his ass for refusing more funds.

 _I don’t care about your dignity, we’re not in the best financial situation and we got the girls to take care of, too,_ he’d snarled that morning, after waking Jisung with a well-placed kick to the stomach, _And if you land yourself in trouble I’ll be watching your punishment and laughing._

Changbin was wrong about many things, but it _was_ true that they had the girls to take care of - and well, he’d kind of earned the money anyway, managed convince a rich idiot to get rid of some coins by playing the part of the poor hungry boy, so it was his, earned with actual work-

“ _You!_ There you are!”

 _Well, shit_.

Jisung almost jumped to his feet to run. Almost. The Hyunjin kid from the previous night had already spotted him, though, and he couldn’t afford any more attention than the idiot was already attracting.

“You have some nerve showing your face in daylight- is that money you stole?!” Hyunjin screeched, pointing at the two coins on the straw mattress Jisung was sitting on.

Now _that_ was a whole different kind of stupid. Who the fuck stole money and just left it in the open, for anyone to see or take back, and who the fuck stole two worthless pieces of metal that could maybe buy him half a bowl of rice.

“Are dogs even allowed to go out alone in public? Where’s your master?” he deadpanned instead of answering, slouching against the wall. He was learning to contain himself and be respectful. Changbin would be proud.

Surprisingly, at to the guard’s credit, he didn’t sputter in indignation.

“What’s your name?” he asked instead.

“Han,” Jisung answered without hesitation.

“Just Han?” the boy raised his eyebrows.

“Problems?” he asked, throwing a coin in the air and catching it again just to watch the other’s eye twitch. This time, at least, it worked. “Then I believe it’s good form to at least answer questions you are posed, Hyunjin.”

“How do you- And it’s _Hwang_ Hyunjin, you little-”

 _Hwang_ Hyunjin apparently was an absolute idiot who gave his name away like it was the charity he apparently didn’t have an ounce of. He was also now angry with Jisung, and the thief-turned-beggar wondered for a moment if this was what Changbin meant when he said he looked for his own problems.

Life, though, seemed to like Jisung at least a bit, because he spotted the child approaching them like a saviour general in times of slavery from an enemy army just a moment before she put on her best sad face and he knew he was saved.

“Sir, did my brother do something to you?” the girl whined, pulling on the guard’s pants.

Chaeyoung, blessed Chaeyoung, Jisung thought as the other boy screeched and jumped. Their girls were truly the best support net he could ever ask for. The one joy in Jisung’s empty life. Orphan, researched in three different towns, poor as dirt, and with an asshole colleague to boot. But he had the girls at least.

The guard stepped back, and Jisung tried to maintain his flimsy guilty façade while making a mental note to thank the kids for saving his ass.

“Do you want some rice? I was bringing lunch so we have some we can give you if he did something, just please don’t hurt my brother,” Chaeyoung begged, eyes welling up with real, actual tears, and Jisung edited his mental note to _really_ treat the kids to something special, because his job as a mentor was definitely over.   

“Uh, it’s fine- no-” the boy stammered, stumbling back as if the little girl was actually hurting him. Having been on the receiving end of her puppy eyes, Jisung could say that it was probably so.

“It’s fine! We just had a dispute!” Hyunjin reassured, kneeling to be on eye level with Chaeyoung. She was, thankfully, smart enough to avoid reacting as she normally would, because last time Jisung had tried that, he’d ended up with a kick to some very hurtful spots.

“I just want to apologize to your brother because yesterday we were a bit bad to each other. We can talk just a little and we’ll leave, yes?”

Talk. Fuck him.

“It’s fine, I can talk,” Jisung said, smiling with his eyes closed. Smile n. 3, AKA _get me out of this please._

“But Dahyun said she’s feeling sick and wanted to see you,” Chaeyoung cried.

The look on the Hyunjin kid’s face was less than convinced, but if he had anything to say about the girls, not only would he face their wrath, not only would he face Jisung’s, but he would have to face _Changbin_ , and Jisung was quite sure that not even the bravest man in the entire kingdom could stand up to Changbin when the girls were threatened.

“You should go help your sister,” he gritted out in the end, glaring directly and Jisung’s innocent smile.

 _This is not the last you see of me,_ he was probably thinking, and he might have been very much right, but this was not the last he would see of Jisung’s escapist skills either. A lifetime of hard work had taught him to be silent like the shadow and swift as the wind, and no one would find him if he didn’t want to be-

“You! You stole my wife’s necklace!”

Jisung’s eyes flew wide open and his body reacted before he did. He jumped to his feet, grabbed Chaeyoung’s hand, and ran.

Being chased across the town by an enraged old man and a weird visitor. Fucking brilliant.

So maybe luck was not on his side today.

* * *

“-and as the knife sunk into the young lady’s stomach, from the gashing wound bloomed a storm of flying flowers!”

Changbin jumped to throw his flowers in the air just as a little boy in the crowd started crying. Truly, the story was moving, but they had yet to get to the best part.

“The flowers condensed into one, and from them, descended rain-”

Water sprinkled, as expected, from the sky. Someone screamed when they were suddenly hit with water, but Changbin, a true performer, ignored the reactions to wave his hands in dramatic tension.

Something _heavy_ hit his head all of a sudden, and he took a step back, tripped over the bundle of clothes on the ground, and landed on the dirt, head first.

“Sorry!” Dahyun squeaked from behind him.

“And then from the princess’ body,” Changbin croaked out, pushing himself back to his feet, “Was a beautiful child born!”

The crowd gasped as one as Sana exited from the bundle of clothes on the ground, smiling triumphantly with all the energy of a young, just reborn, spirit. Someone laughed, but Changbin contained his smirk of satisfaction in the name of professionalism.  

“She got reunited with her beloved cat while on adventures in another realm- but that’s a story for another day!”

“You did amazing!” Dahyun shouted from the crowd before Changbin could collect his applause.

The crowd dispersed soon enough, after giving Changbin their kudos, some even choosing to part with a coin or two, which Sana promptly collected with a candid smile, for how moved they were.

“Got a lot of stuff,” Dahyun murmured as soon as the crowd had dissipated, patting her trousers. Changbin ruffled her hair, giggling when her grin turned into a scowl of dissatisfaction.

“That was very interesting!” a voice called from behind him, and Changbin turned around to face his admirer, almost tripping on the strands of clothing a second time.

“Thank you. It’s all original, written by the girls and I,” Changbin gave the man who had approached them a small bow. Appreciators of art were rare these days, but always welcome. The man smiled and bowed back.

“I missed the first part, though, do you plan on repeating that show?” he asked.  

“Sorry, I don’t really repeat shows, makes art unoriginal,” Changbin grinned, and the stranger smiled amiably.

“Say, doesn’t this uncle look like someone who is _so generous_ and would get us all some food? You’re a new face around town, maybe you don’t know that it’s a tradition to offer a meal to storytellers you enjoyed.” Dahyun beamed up at the flustered stranger, who only giggled and repeated ‘ _uncle…?’_

“Dahyunie, don’t ask from strangers,” Changbin reprimanded, squeezing Dahyun’s wrist once to compliment her.

“I’m sorry,” he said to the man, “My sister is a bit tired from performing. You know kids, always hungry,” he chuckled.

“Ah, it’s absolutely not a bo-”

“If you want, you could do that tomorrow though,” he shrugged, “That way you’d be appreciating an entire show and following traditions. We’re always here, every day-”

“Changbin, we’re leaving! Now!” Jisung’s voice screeched from the end of the street.

Changbin whipped around, ready to bark the idiot’s head off.

He didn’t get to bark the idiot’s head off, though, because the idiot was being chased by two different people, along with Chaeyoung, and every instinct and experience-mandated response in Changbin’s body made him flip around, grab the girls by their arms, and _run._

* * *

“I hate you,” was the first thing Changbin coughed, slumping against the grime-crusted wall of their house to catch his breath, chest heaving in pure hatred and only partial exhaustion from the chase.

“You should leave, it’s too dangerous,” Chaeyoung sighed, walking back inside. “They’re gonna realize they lost you any moment, and they know your faces.”

“No shit,” Changbin hissed, uncaring of his volume, “Someone just ruined our entire cover- do you know how much time I spent trying to build a reputation here?”

“Well someone ought to feed us at least!” Jisung whispered back, just as non-silently.

“Excuse me, but…”

All heads in the room whipped towards the lone scholar, crouching awkwardly in the corner.

“Could you maybe release my friend?”

“He’s gonna scream. No way,” Jisung growled, pulling on the makeshift gag from where he was sitting atop the guard. “Now what?” he turned to Changbin, shifting to sit more comfortably and ignoring the pained grunts below him.

“What did you even steal?”

“Nothing! It was a necklace I’d stolen three days ago, how was I supposed to know it was a family heirloom?” 

“You _idiot_ , how is that not family heirloom material?”

“They don’t need it, they have plenty of heirlooms anyway!”

“Both of you, shut up!” Dahyun shouted, Changbin’s silencing hand on her mouth too late to stop her from yelling.

“Ow- she bit me!” he whined.

“She does that,” Sana deadpanned from the corner, sitting on their prisoner’s legs. “What will you do now?”

“They leave town again, that’s what they do.” Dahyun stared at both the boys straight in the eyes, as if defying them to protest.

They never failed, of course.

“What about you?”

“I’m not leaving you alone-”

“Oh, _please,”_ she interrupted them, “I’m twelve, I can handle myself. Unlike you, I didn’t get caught stealing, so one of us is clearly the superior thief.”

“I uh, I really don’t mean to be an annoyance to your plans to move,” the scholar piped up, “But, uh, what about us?”

“...We’ll have to bring them with us,” Changbin sighed.

“No,” Jisung interrupted before he could continue.  

“There’s no choice, they’re gonna run off and tattle to everyone. And this one followed us, so they’re gonna think he’s with us and arrest him.”

“ _Good_ , let them,” Jisung hissed, only to realize what he said a second later, as memories of ridiculous excuses in his favor came flashing back in.

He threw a sideways glance at the silent scholar, to see him pale but not protesting.

 _Oh come on, you’re not supposed to be a good person- Get angry,_ please, _say something bad--_

“...Fine. Okay. We’re taking them out of here and letting them go at the first stop,” he growled. “Now what?”

Changbin beamed.

“I have a plan.”

* * *

“I hate your plans so much,” Jisung grumbled, crouching in the shadow of the room, kicking Changbin’s shin when the latter shushed him.

“I think the girls are ready.”

“Are you sure we can’t just run instead?” Jisung sighed, getting up and stretching his legs. At Changbin’s glare, he just nodded in defeat. “Right, right, let’s do it.”

“Help!” he screeched as loud as possible, ignoring the sickening burn of shame, terror, and the general overwhelming sensation that he was going to die having made every single possible wrong choice in his life. “There’s an evil spirit following me!”

The evil spirit in question chased him into the main street, and if his screaming didn’t attract everyone’s attention, Changbin, donning the scholar’s uniform and one of his favorite performance masks, _and_ swinging a rope on fire, surely did.

“You have sullied the Heavens’ will for this city with your immoral acts of thievery!” he boomed, “The supreme spirit council has decided your crime spree will no longer be tolerated. Come with us, or this town will face destruction!”

“What the fuck,” someone in the crowd murmured, and Jisung almost screamed in heartfelt approval as he slowed to a halt.

“This boy has betrayed your trust, and he will be punished for it,” Changbin shouted, dropping the rope to the ground.

 _Girls, please,_ Jisung mentally begged. This had to be the worst plan Changbin had ever had. And they had spent seventeen years of Jisung’s life together.  

“If you interfere, the wrath of the Heavens will also fall upon the rest of your community!”

_Any moment now. Come on. Any moment now._

_Why are they taking so long?!_

“Boy, what are you doing?” an old man asked, and Jisung pondered whether he should’ve really just ran after all.

“What’s that?”

Changbin whipped around, and even though the mask was covering his face, Jisung knew exactly how much triumph he was expressing at the moment.

_They did it._

“Fire! There’s houses on fire!” a woman shouted, panic instantly taking over the crowd.

“Let this serve as an example,” Changbin shouted, dragging Jisung closer and squeezing his neck. Jisung tensed, ready to run. “None of you follow his path. Especially you, child.”

The small boy Changbin pointed at started wailing, and it was the final signal. His mother picked him up, amidst people pushing to stop the fire or run from it; a few stood and stared at Jisung and Changbin

The moment Changbin let go of his jacket, Jisung ran, hoping with all his might no one actually followed them and this foolish plan worked.

He dived into the planned meeting point with little care as to how much he skinned his knees or further ruined his already torn pants, collapsing to regain his breath and waiting for the inevitable chasers to catch him because their plan was destined to fail from the beginning, and Jisung would not only get the lashing of his life, but also probably get ink to mark him as a criminal for the rest of his life, and his knees already burned from the idiotic decision to _dive_ in the bushes to hide, because Jisung was an idiot and only hanged around idiots and was going to suffer for it.  

“Did it work?”

He opened his eyes to find the scholar - _Bang_ _Chaeng_ or something, he had said before they parted ways - close enough to his face that he tried to scream - and ended up in a coughing fit when he almost choked on his own spit instead.

“It worked,” Changbin’s voice huffed from behind him, entering the bushes. “We have to leave, give me your hands.”

“Yes, thank you. And uh, will you be untying my companion, too?” the nobleman asked, rubbing his wrists to get blood flowing into them as Changbin put away the length of rope.

“We can leave them here,” Jisung insisted, knowing there wasn’t much to do. At Changbin’s firm ‘no’, he shrugged and started working on the knots that kept the Hyunjin kid’s legs still.

“Here’s how it’s going to go. I’m leaving this one gagged and making sure he doesn’t run off. Next village we find in the middle of nowhere, we just drop you both and you find your own way. Okay?”

Chaeng nodded.

“Fine. We’re leaving,” Jisung sighed.

He didn’t even get to give the girls final advice.

“The fire is spreading,” Changbin pointed out.

“Well, damn us, it wasn’t _my_ plan. It’ll be fine, anyway.” Dragging the guard to his feet by the rope around his wrists, and checking that the bag holding the one change of clothing and what little loot he still had left was properly strapped to his belt, Jisung bowed towards the flaming buildings in a final greeting.

“Thanks for serving us well,” he shouted.

“Thanks for giving us food and friends!” Changbin added.

“Good town.” 

“Truly.”

“I hope the next has some more decent sleeping spaces.”

Exchanging a grin, the two friends and their unfortunate followers walked off into the conveniently timed sunset, onto their next adventure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I solemnly promise I do not hate Hyunjin. I love him with all my heart. There's just character development to do and we need him to shut up for a little while. 
> 
> Also, as usual, pleaaase leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed? They give your local loser strength to liv-- ehm, write. And keep being a Fool. Also, my tumblr remains [this](https://procrastinatingdragonfly.tumblr.com), for those of you who want to talk SKZ or writing!!
> 
>  **Historical Notes** :  
> Punishment in Joseon consisted mostly of a lot of different kinds of flogging (with different implements, and with varying number of strikes according to the severity of the crime, with or without imprisonment, depending). Tattoing of criminals was also a Thing, but _as far as my research has led me to believe_ , not legally foreseen in Joseon (although practiced before!). I'm still gonna assume Jisung knows it used to be a thing and would probably think of everything in the general panic. 
> 
> Also this chapter features Chaeyoung, Sana, and Dahyun from Twice!


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